: read any good pants lately? :

Is that an instruction book sewn into your Levi’s? A magazine? A phone directory? A Pynchon novel? Heck, no, that’s four pages of teeny tiny, densely packed, flyspeck type. A sans serif font so small you’d need a magnifying glass or a powerful microscope just to decipher the thing.

When did this happen? When did pants, well, all clothes for that matter, start requiring such lengthy, verbose explanations? It’s not like they’re bow ties or an elaborate, complicated dress, they don’t need a step-by-step guide.

Unless you’re new to the planet, putting on a pair of pants should be second nature. Something you could do blindfolded, with one hand tied behind your back. We don’t need to consult an owner’s manual. It’s a very simple process:

1. Put on one leg at a time
2. Zip (or button, if so equipped).

The same goes for washing instructions. Do we have to be told to ‘wash with like colors?’ Really? Ever since the days of beating laundry on rocks we’ve been separating whites from colors, it’s hard-wired into our brains. Duh. And what’s with the ‘remove promptly?’ Sheesh — nag, nag, nag.

Levi’s even goes so far as to include their phone numbers and addresses, in case you’d like to call or visit, I guess. And not just for the U.S., either, but for Mexico, Canada, and Brazil, as well. Why? Are they lonely, looking for friends?

Then they should get a Facebook page, for pete’s sake, and stop cramming tags into my clothes. I mean, I need all the room I can get, but with all the tags and labels and instructions it’s getting kind of crowded in there. The seams are packed and waistbands are standing room only. Do you remember deep breaths? I do, very fondly, too.

Shirts stay untucked. Belts remain in the drawer. All because of too many tags, not because of the cookies and ice cream sandwiches and macaroni and cheese. No, it’s the tags. See how nicely that works out?

I bought Levi shoes the other day and it had a little get-to-know-your-shoes booklet thing with a step by step guide on how to store your shoes… we grew up with shoes… even in rural africa haha. Good post.

A phone number? Seriously?! Wow… I remember one class at school, we were taught what all the care symbols on clothes meant; it seemed pointless at the time but I appreciate it now – who has time to read a whole screed of instructions on every single item in their laundry basket?

Seriously. And it’s toll-free, so you can call and chat as often as you like. At least you know what the care symbols mean : ) They could be hieroglyphics for all I know. I must have been absent that day?

Oh my goodness. It IS the tag isn’t it, Lisa? My food consumption has nothing to do with the fact that my jeans are tight. It is the stupid tags!! Man, thank you so much for this information. I am going to cut those tags out right now. I bet when Rob gets home from work he’ll see me and say, “Lenore, have you lost weight?”
“No dear. I just cut out the tags!!”

It is the stoopid tags. I swear, food has nothing to do with it — not a thing. And now that you mention it, you do look thinner, LD, very willowy. I bet Rob will have trouble tearing his eyes off your new figure!

I did, thanks, LD. I stumbled on it yesterday and was tickled pink! Pink, I tell you. I like themiddlestsister’s version a lot better than the illustration, don’t you? Maybe I’ll ask if I can use hers, instead? It’s just too cute : )

Loved this. I cannot stand the feeling of those tags sticking right into your waist like that. I had a pair of jeans I liked but couldn’t wear for more than ten minutes because the tag started gnawing at me. My husband finally had a genius idea. “Can you cut it out?” I don’t know, can I? Totally expecting the government is going to bust down my door now like it does with the mattress tag removal.